


Love Finds Dr Chilton

by Rafaelle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rafaelle/pseuds/Rafaelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just needed *someone* to visit Chilton in Hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was a tap on his door. “Come in,” he called out, surprised. The medical staff never knocked, and he had had no visitors except police and lawyers, and they had finished with him as far as he knew.

“Hey, doc,” she smiled.

“Oh, hi,” he said, struggling to sit up a little, and straighten his pyjamas, “Something I can do for you?” he asked, puzzled. He couldn’t imagine why she was here. If she needed any files, or access, then someone at the facility could surely sort it out for her.

“I just came to see how you were,” she smiled kindly, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No. I don’t mind,” was all he could think of to reply, while trying to mask his amazement.

“So how are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m getting better,” he replied, “Still sore, of course.”

 

“I brought you some crossword books. I don’t know if you like that kind of thing,” she said, “But I thought you might be bored.”

“Thanks. Yeah, I like crosswords,” he confirmed, strangely touched, “Thank you for the thought.”

She took two books out of her bag, along with a couple of propelling pencils. “I got straight and cryptic, ‘cos I don’t know what kind you prefer.”

“I’ve never really done cryptic,” he replied, “I never know where to start.” It was a rare admission of fallibility, but his guard was well and truly down.

“Yeah, I think someone has to teach you how, otherwise it’s just gibberish,” she replied.

“Do… do you do them?” he asked.

“I can get through most of a puzzle after about three days,” she grinned.

“Would you have time to show me a little?” he asked, wanting to keep her here a little longer. It was so wonderful to have someone here to take his mind away from his own dark thoughts.

“Sure,” she readily agreed, “I’m not great at them, but I can pass on my little bit of knowledge.”

So he spent a very pleasant hour with her as they puzzled through a cryptic puzzle from the book she had brought. It was fun, and it took his mind off things. She showed him the little tricks of the clues, and it was quite nice to be able show off his large vocabulary.

To his surprise, she stayed right through until the end of the visiting hours. It had been lovely to spend time with her, and not to be alone, as usual.

When the bell went to signal that she had to leave, she grabbed her jacket and put it on. “Thanks for coming,” he said, a little awkwardly.

“My pleasure,” she replied, “Is there anything you need? Anything I can bring you?”

“I’d love some magazines,” he said. He did want some, but more than that, he wanted to give her a reason to return.

“No problem,” she smiled, and he was touched to see how eager she was to help him. “What kind of thing do you like?”

“New Yorker, Newsweek, maybe Vanity Fair?” he suggested.

“Great,” she said, “I’ll come by about the same time tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

“That’s great. Thank you,” he replied.

“Bye, doc,” she grinned, then let herself out of his room.

 

The rest of the evening and the next day passed much easier than the previous days had. He had something to look forward to, apart from loneliness and boredom.

He was a little apprehensive, however. What if she just popped in with the magazines, then left straight away? It would be better than nothing, but still he knew he would be very disappointed if she didn’t stay for a while.

His heart leaped as he heard her tap on the door. “Come in,” he called out.

“Hey, doc,” she grinned, “Feeling any better?”

“A little, thanks,” he replied, and it was true. He did feel like he might be getting a little stronger, and a little less sore.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a little stack of magazines. There was everything he had asked for, plus a couple of others.

“Hope those are OK,” she said, as she handed them to him.

“They’re great, thanks,” he replied, “Can… can you stay a little while?”

“Sure,” she replied, to his relief.

She sat down beside him in the visitor’s chair. He felt better the moment that she did. Before yesterday, he had wondered if it would ever be used.

“How’re the cryptics going?” she asked with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

She hadn’t specifically said that she would visit, but no matter how much he tried to keep a lid on it, he couldn’t help feeling hopeful, bordering on excited, as the evening visiting hour approached.

He actually jumped when he heard her tap on the door. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as she put her head around the door.

“Hey, doc,” she grinned, her usual cheerful self.

“Hey,” he replied.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked.

“Better. Thanks,” he replied, “In fact, I’ve been told I can go home tomorrow.”

“That’s fantastic,” she grinned, “I bet you’ll be glad to get out of this room.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

But actually, he was at least partially dreading it. It had been so nice to have her visit him every day, and of course, once he was at home, she would have no reason to go on doing so.

The thought that this would be her last visit with him was an upsetting one.

But he tried to put that out of his mind and just enjoy her company one last time. They talked, and did puzzles, and it was a fun hour. He was sad when the clock moved around to the end of the visiting hour.

Around five-to, she said, “So, how are you getting home tomorrow?”

“I guess in a cab,” he replied.

“Do you know what time you’ll be discharged?” she asked.

“Er, twelve-thirty,” he replied, trying not to get excited about why she was asking.

“I can take the afternoon off work and drive you home,” she said, “If you’d like.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” he asked, thrilled.

“Of course not,” she insisted, “You’ll need someone to help carry your things, and cabs can be pretty bumpy and uncomfortable.”

“As long as you’re sure, that would be really kind of you,” he said, eager not to miss this chance.

She got up and got her coat as the buzzer for the end of the visiting hour sounded. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow at twelve-thirty,” she smiled, before letting herself out.

 

He spent the next morning slowly dressing and getting his things together, ready to leave.

He was a little nervous that she wouldn’t come. He knew how unreliable people generally were.

But at twelve-twenty, there came the familiar tap on his door.

She sat on the bed with him, their legs dangling off the edge, while they waited for the doctor to come and officially discharge him.

She waited patiently while the required paperwork was filled in, then she picked up his box of belongings and walked patiently alongside him as the orderly wheeled him to the door.

She turned to him, “You wait here a minute while I go bring the car right to the door.”

She hurried off with his belongings and disappeared around the corner. A few minutes later, she pulled up in a black VW Golf.

She came over to him, and he got up from his wheelchair.

She walked very patiently beside him as he made his was slowly to her car. She opened the passenger door and he carefully got in.

She drove him very smoothly and carefully to his house.

She parked in his driveway and she carried his box of belongings inside.

She put the box down on the sideboard and turned to him, “So where do you want to be? Are you going to go to bed, or…?”

“I’ve been in bed for two weeks now,” he said, “I just want to sit on my sofa.”

She smiled in understanding. He walked a little unsteadily towards the sofa, and she walked beside him. She didn’t touch him, but he got the impression that she was ready to help if he needed it.

He lowered himself gingerly onto the sofa with a sigh. It was so nice to be home, among his own things, and not stuck in bed with no privacy whatsoever.

“Can I get you some tea?” she asked.

“Would you?” he asked. He was unused to anyone doing things like that for him.

“Sure. How do you take it?” she asked.

“Green tea, please, just on its own. No milk or sugar,” he said.

“Just as well, I suppose,” she smiled, “I guess your milk is well and truly off by now.”

He settled into the sofa while she headed to the kitchen. He heard water running, and the kettle boiling, and sounds of her moving around.

She came back with a mug of tea.

“I’m going to go to the store, get you some things,” she said, “I’ve had to throw out a lot of stuff.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“That’s really kind of you,” he said, quite amazed at how she was looking after him.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him, “What do you need?”

Between them, they made a list, and she set off to the store, locking him in and taking the front door key with her.

She came back half an hour later, laden with shopping bags. She headed to the kitchen, and he could hear her putting the things away.

“Would you like a sandwich or something for lunch?” she asked.

“Thank you,” he replied.

She made sandwiches for both of them, and they ate in the living room.

When they were done eating, she took the plates out to the kitchen, and he could hear her washing them up.

She came back to the living room, but she didn’t sit down. “Where are you going to sleep tonight?” she asked, “Do you think you can manage the stairs?”

“I think so, if I take it slowly,” he replied, surprised at how much thought she had obviously given it.

“Let me bring you a blanket downstairs, in case you need to sleep on the sofa,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied, “There are some in the closet at the top of the stairs.”

She ran up and brought back a soft blanket from the closet, and left in on the arm-chair, then she went to the kitchen and brought back a couple of bottles of mineral water and a glass, which she put down within his reach.

“So. There are some microwave meals in the fridge. You just need to nuke them for a few minutes,” she explained, as she picked up her jacket and put it on. “Is there anything else you need?”

He was sad to see her go, but she had been kinder and more helpful than he could possibly have expected.

“No, thank you,” he said, “You’ve already done so much.”

She took her cell phone out of her pocket. “May I have your cell number?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied, surprised. He took his phone out of his pocket and read out the number to her.

“Would you like mine?” she asked, “Just in case you need anything?”

“Yes. Please,” he replied.

She read her number to him, and he programmed it into his phone. Speed dial number five.

“If there’s anything at all that you need, I’m only ten minutes away,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied, a little choked up in the face of her kindness.


	3. Chapter 3

He spent the rest of the day, and the next, pottering around his house. He often thought about calling her, but he was managing OK with the things she had bought, and she had already been so helpful.

It gave him time to think about how he felt about her, and to speculate on how she felt about him.

He liked her a lot. 

While she had been compiling her report, he had seen her as just another bureaucrat. A necessary nuisance.

He cringed to think how unhelpful he had been, and how impatient and sarcastic he had been with her on occasion.

He had never imagined she would be so kind, and he had been very surprised to discover how funny she could be.

He would very much have liked a relationship with her. He had always found her very attractive, and now he had got to know her, he really felt like he might be falling for her.

But realistically, looking back over the last days, although she had been so sweet and helpful, she had never shown any sign that she found him attractive in that way.

She had never touched him, hadn’t flirted with him at all. He knew enough about human behaviour to know that she didn’t think of him romantically at all.

But if the last few days had shown him anything, it was that she was about the best friend he had in the world.

Nobody else had visited him in hospital, nobody else had offered to help him while he was recovering.

It was sad to think that they would never be lovers, but he was happy at least to have her as a friend.

 

On the third day after he was discharged from hospital, he was sitting on his sofa, reading a trashy novel before dinner.

He nearly jumped out of the chair as his cellphone rang, shattering the silence.

His heart lifted as he saw that it was her. Forgetting to be nonchalant, he answered before the first ring had even finished.

“Hey, doc,” she said, cheerfully.

“Hi,” he replied.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m feeling a little stronger,” he replied.

“That’s great,” she replied, and she seemed genuinely pleased, “I was wondering if you needed any shopping or anything,” she added.

He hesitated for no more than a moment. He could have managed, could have got the grocery store to deliver, but the thought of seeing a friendly face was too tempting. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” he asked.

 

So, every few days, she would come over and bring him groceries, magazines, and whatever else he needed.

She would sit and talk over a cup of tea with him, before leaving him alone again.

It wasn’t much, but it brightened his days considerably.

 

Finally, he was ready to go back to work.

He started with reduced hours, but it was good to be back, good to return to something like normality.

Everyone seemed pleased to see him back. They all politely enquired about his health and his recovery. It was nice to be around people again.

 

He had been back at work for just over a week, when he checked his schedule and saw he had an appointment with her. It had been added to his schedule last minute, and it was for that afternoon.

Despite himself, his stomach did a little flip of excitement.

No matter how often he told himself that she saw him as just a friend, even as a little bit of a charity-case, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her romantically.

 

She was, as always, strictly punctual.

She tapped on the door less than sixty seconds before the time they were appointed to meet.

He managed to keep his voice steady as he called out for her to enter.

She poked her head around the door, with her usual cheerful greeting, and her expression was one of undisguised warmth and happiness to see him.

She seemed genuinely thrilled to see him back up and around. It was a stark contrast to the polite interest of his staff and colleagues.

She perched on the chair across from him, and the light from the window was right in her eyes.

He got up to close the blind, leaving his cane by his desk.

As he turned back around, to his surprise, she was right in front of him.

“I’m sorry, doc,” she said, “But I’m going to have to invade your personal space for a moment.”

Then she took a step in and put her arms around him.

Involuntarily, he gasped. He was shocked to suddenly feel her body pressed against his.

From some kind of race memory, he automatically put his arms around her waist, even though it had been very many years since anyone hugged him.

Once his initial shock subsided, he revelled in the closeness of her. Despite the strangeness of it, he found it incredibly comforting to he held.

As she held him gently but firmly, he heard her voice softly against his ear. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said gently.

She held him for a long few moments, then she very gently released him from her arms. He was loath to let go, but he knew it would look weird if he clung to her any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

He saw her occasionally in the weeks that followed. She would come in to request stats and to check figures with him from time to time.

Things were definitely different between them than they had been before. She was friendlier and warmer, and they talked about more personal subjects.

She always asked him how he was, and she always seemed genuinely interested in the answer. It made him realise how seldom that was the case. Most people asking how he was just wanted him to say “fine”, and move on.

After the hug, he found it more and more difficult to look at her as just a work associate.

He often found himself playing scenarios in his head where he asked her out on a date.

Unfortunately, most of the scenarios he envisaged ended with a polite, embarrassing refusal.

Despite her friendliness, he kept telling himself that she didn’t see him romantically.

 

One afternoon, she called him to ask for some stats at the last minute. Compiling them for her would mean him cancelling his plans for the evening.

“I had a ticket for Holiday on Ice,” he complained.

Horrified, he realised how sad, lonely and pathetic that sounded. Why hadn’t he said tickets? Of all people, she didn’t need any more evidence of what a loser he was.

But to his relief, she didn’t react, either with pity or with scorn. “I’ll buy you another,” she replied, her voice even.

He made a show of sighing in a simulation of his usual begrudging manner, even though the only emotion he had space for was crushing humiliation, despite her kindness in not reacting.

 

A couple of days later, his phone rang.

“Hey doc,” a familiar voice sent a slight thrill through him.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice cool.

“I’m just buying you that ticket I promised,” she replied, “I need to know what night you want.”

He blushed crimson, remembering his humiliation, but he mastered his voice enough to reply, “Thursday’s the only day I can manage it,” hoping she’d be convinced that he had some kind of social life the rest of the week.

“Alright,” she replied, “I’ll get the ticket, then I’ll pick you up after work on Thursday and drive you there. To make up for making you miss it the first time.”

He had been wondering how he would get there. He wasn’t cleared to drive yet, and he hated cabs. “Are you sure?” he asked, only offering a token argument. In reality, he was glad of the chance to spend a little time with her.

“Sure. It’s no trouble,” she confirmed.

 

He dressed a little more carefully on Thursday, almost despite himself. He told himself it was stupid. He would only be seeing her for a few minutes, and she wasn’t really interested in him. But he couldn’t stop himself.

When she appeared at his office door, she almost took his breath away. He had never seen her dressed in anything but sober work clothes, her hair always pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. But now she was wearing a silk blouse and fitted jeans, and her hair was loose around her shoulders.

He got up and put his jacket on, then he grabbed his cane and they walked slowly down to the parking garage together. He was grateful to her that she kept to his pace, instead of rushing him along, as so many people seemed to now he was less mobile.

They got into her car, and she handed him his ticket. He took it, a little shame-faced.

She drove him smoothly to the venue, and pulled up right out front. It was very thoughtful of her to minimise the distance he had to walk.

“Have a good time,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” he replied, a little sad to leave her.

He made his way to his seat, bought himself a programme, and was flipping through it when the person seated beside him arrived.

He glanced around and did a classic double-take.

“Hey doc,” she grinned, “Hope it’s OK if I join you?”

He felt a little faint. He was grateful to be sitting down.

Suddenly aware of a very long silence he’d left between them, he managed to reply, “Yes. Of course. That’s fine.”

His mind was reeling. This was practically a date. Something he’d dreamed of, but never imagined would happen.


	5. Chapter 5

It was lovely to see the show with someone else.

She had never seen an ice show before, and she seemed really captivated by the whole thing.

At the interval, they laughed and talked. It really did seem to be a date.

Dating was not something he excelled at. He always seemed to make a mess of things, somehow. 

He was partly having a lovely evening, and partly petrified that he would screw it up. Screw up their date, and their friendship.

When the show was over, they waited until most people had left their seats, before slowly making their way to the parking lot.

They had to walk through a long corridor, that was now quiet, since most people had gone on ahead of them.

He suddenly felt an overflowing of affection and attraction towards her. He remembered romantic movies, where the hero would let his desire get the better of him, and the girl was always happy to feel the force of his attraction.

He pressed her suddenly against the wall and kissed her on the mouth.

To his horror, she turned her head to the side and pushed against him with her hands.

He let go immediately, and took a step back, horrified at how stupidly wrongly he had played things. Why did he *always* have to screw up?

“I’m sorry,” he said, hurriedly. He reached out to touch her, then snatched his hand back, realising that touching her would just make things worse.

“It’s OK,” she replied, a little shakily.

She composed herself a little, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, then she carried on down the corridor.

He stayed where he was, sure that she would not want him anywhere near her now.

But after she had gone a half-dozen steps, she turned around. “Coming?” she asked.

“I… I’ll get a cab,” he assured her, although he very much wanted her to take him home.

“It’s OK. I’ll drive you,” she insisted.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied.

He couldn’t bring himself to protest further. He slowly caught up with her, and they walked to her car together.

When they were in her car, and she was driving him home, he said, “I really am sorry. About trying to kiss you. I should’ve known you wouldn’t want…” He faltered.

“Really, it’s alright,” she insisted.

“No. It’s not,” he insisted, “I misread the situation. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think you misread it as badly as you imagine,” she said gently.

“Really?” he asked, amazed.

“Sure,” she replied, “You really don’t need to give yourself such a hard time about it.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

She pulled up outside his house. “Would you like to come in?” he asked, not holding out any hope.

“Sure,” she replied, switching off the engine.

He couldn’t believe his ears.

They walked up to his house together. 

He made coffee for the two of them, inwardly cringing about the state of the place. He’d neglected housework a little lately.

But as he handed her her coffee, she didn’t seem to have noticed, or more likely she was much too polite to say anything.

They sipped their coffee in silence for a minute or so before he felt he had to speak.

“I’m so sorry. About trying to kiss you,” he said.

“Really. There’s no need,” she assured him.

“I’m not… I’m not dangerous. I would never try to…” he faltered, not knowing where to go with the sentence without sounding even creepier and more predatory.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she replied, “That’s why I came in. I wanted you to know that I’m not scared of you. I know you’re not a creep.”

“Thank you.”, he said, relieved that she really seemed to be being honest. He wanted more, but he was very afraid of losing the only real friendship in his life.

“It wasn’t kissing you that scared me, it was just so unexpected. I was in a dark creepy corridor, and suddenly I was shoved up against the wall. I just panicked,” she explained.

He was horrified to realise how stupidly he had behaved. He was forty, and he had behaved like a stupid kid.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, heartfelt. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to scare me,” she reassured him.

She steered the conversation back to more neutral subjects, and they just chatted pleasantly for around an hour. They discussed the show, and it was just a pleasant easy time. He enjoyed it very much. It made such a change from sitting alone every night.

He was a little sad when she stirred, and said she really had to go.

He got up to show her out. “Well, goodnight,” she said, stopping by the door.

She looked up at him for a long moment, her head tilted up slightly.

It really seemed like she was inviting him to kiss her. He was a little afraid after his earlier stupidity, but he just wanted to so much.

He leaned in very, very slowly and pressed his lips softly against hers. To his delight, she kissed him back. It felt electrifying.


	6. Chapter 6

He tried his hardest to play it cool.

Even though he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, and about the way her soft lips had felt against his, and even though every time he did think about it, his stomach felt like it was full of fluttering things, he did his best to leave a few days before calling her.

He wanted to leave the perfect interval before calling her and asking her out again. He wanted to seem interested, but not too eager.

Two days later, however, after work, he was sitting alone on his sofa. The house felt huge and empty and hostile, and he couldn’t help dwelling on the horrors of the past.

He remembered how different the house had seemed with her in it. How much warmer, and cosier. And he remembered how she seemed to be able to take his mind off everything but being with her.

He wanted to see her so much, wanted to spend time with her.

After more than an hour of mental struggle, he finally dialled her number.

“Hey doc,” she answered, reassuringly quickly.

“Hi,” he said, really not knowing how to continue.

After a pause, she spoke, “Are you OK?” she asked.

“I… er, not really,” he replied.

“What’s up?” she asked, straightforwardly, but her voice was warm and concerned.

“I… I’m just struggling a little,” he finally managed to reply.

“Would you like me to come over?” she asked, without hesitation.

“Would you mind?” he asked, longing to see her.

“Of course not,” she replied, “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

He put down the phone. He felt immense relief. He couldn’t believe she had made it so easy for him, but he was incredibly grateful that she had.

In less than ten minutes, the doorbell sounded. He hurried over and let her in.

When she walked through the door, he locked it behind her, and just as he had hoped, she took him in her arms.

He clung tightly to her.

She held him comfortingly for a long few minutes.

Very eventually, she gently let go of him. “Let me make you some tea,” she said, heading off to the kitchen.

He went and sat down on the sofa, incredibly grateful not to be alone, and touched by her kindness in coming over, and the sweet domesticity of her making him tea in his kitchen.

She came back and set the tea mugs down on the table. She sat down beside him, then turned so that her legs were across his. She held out her arms to him, and he allowed himself to gratefully lean against her, his head nestled against her shoulder.

She began to softly stroke the back of his hair.

It felt so good, so warm and comforting. It was the kind of thing he had never really experienced.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked gently.

Somehow, it helped that she couldn’t see his face. In her arms, with his cheek pressed against the soft cotton of her shirt, he opened up to her about so many things – things he hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about before.

She listened to him, patiently and sympathetically, and when he was talked out, when he had shown her all his weakness and fear, she still held him gently. It was immensely comforting.

Their tea had gone cold while he was talking, and she went and made some more.

They sat close together on the sofa, and sipped tea, and talked quietly. He felt calmer and more peaceful than he had in a long, long time.

But eventually, she glanced at her watch. It was after midnight.

His heart went cold at the thought of her leaving. He so didn’t want to be on his own again. Not tonight.

“Would you stay?” he blurted out. He heard the note of pleading in his voice as it came out of his mouth.

But she just replied, “Sure.”

 

It was way out of his usual experience. It almost seemed unreal as they went upstairs and he found her a t-shirt to wear.

She went off to the guest bathroom, while he got ready for bed in his en-suite.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was already in bed.

He stared at her for a long few moments. It seemed almost surreal to see her there, apparently quite comfortable in his bed.

He shook his head to shake off the dreamlike feeling, and hurried over to climb into bed beside her.

He lay down on his back, beside her, and she rolled over and snuggled her head against his shoulder, and put an arm around him. It felt so warm and comforting.

They lay like that for a few minutes, but then she slid her hand very gently under his t-shirt. He jumped away from her almost involuntarily.

“Sorry, honey. Did I hurt you?” she asked, concerned.

“No,” he replied, “But… you wouldn’t want to touch me.”

“Why not?” she asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“My stomach is scarred,” he explained.

“I assumed it would be,” she said, “But that’s no reason why I wouldn’t want to touch you.”

“Really?” he asked, amazed.

“Really,” she confirmed. Then she asked very gently, “May I see?”

“It’s ugly. You wouldn’t want to see it,” he argued.

“If it’s a part of you, then it won’t be ugly,” she assured him. “It’s OK if you don’t want me to see, but I promise I won’t find you ugly.”

He was so torn. He wanted her to see. He wanted to share everything with her. But he was afraid that she was just being kind, that she would be horrified, that she would see nothing but ugly scars when she looked at him.

In the end, the desire to share it with her won out. Shyly, fearfully, he very slowly pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

She looked carefully at the scar running up his stomach. She reached out a hand and ran her fingers along the livid line on his pale skin.

The touch of her fingers was deeply affecting. The gentleness of her caress on the strange numb sensitivity of the scar tissue, but more than that, the intimacy of the situation was so new to him. He was so unused to any kind of intimacy.

“See?” he said, a little hoarsely, “Ugly.”

“It’s a mark of how strong you are,” she replied, “Of what you’ve endured. That’s not ugly.”

He blinked back tears of emotion.

Before his amazed eyes, she slipped off her own t-shirt, and then her bra, tossing them on the floor beside the bed.

He stared at her beautiful naked torso, then he gasped as she moved closer and took him in her arms. The feeling of her soft, warm, voluptuous body pressed naked against his own was overwhelming.

He wanted to make love to her. He wanted it so badly. But he knew he could not. He was too scared.

He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t get past the feeling that if he came, he might dislodge something, might overtax something inside him that hadn’t been fixed properly.

He was scared that she would leave if he could not make love to her, that she might grow bored of waiting for him. After all, she must have all kinds of guys lining up to sleep with her. Taller, better looking, able bodied, non-neurotic guys.

But he knew he could not. “I’m not ready,” he whispered, with trepidation.

“That’s OK, honey,” she replied.

“Will… Will you still stay?” he asked.

“Of course. If you want me to.”, she replied.

“I do. Please stay. I’m sorry I’m so useless,” he said, his voice small, clinging to her tightly.

“You’re not useless, honey,” she assured him, holding him reassuringly tightly against her.


	7. Chapter 7

He slept better that night than he had in a long while.

He still woke up from time to time, but with her warmth and soft breathing beside him, he was soothed back to sleep much more easily than all the nights when he lay alone, staring up at the ceiling.

In the morning, they were woken by the alarm on her cellphone.

She kissed him softly on the cheek, then grabbed her t-shirt and headed for the bathroom.

He jumped out of bed and went to the en-suite. He tidied his hair with his fingers, and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt.

He hurried downstairs and started to make pancakes for breakfast. He was so grateful to her for coming over, and for staying over, and for listening to him, that he wanted to make something special for her.

He couldn’t help being a little apprehensive, though, as he waited for her to come downstairs.

Yesterday had been an almost perfect evening for him. He felt so much better for her company, and for talking out some of the things that had been haunting him, and the memory of being held in her arms made him feel warm even now.

But he couldn’t help wondering if it had been a chore for her. To listen to all his whining, then find him unable even to make love to her – would that have turned her off for good?

She came down to the kitchen fully dressed. Needing reassurance, he went over and kissed her on the mouth.

To his relief, she kissed him back softly, sliding her arms around him.

He was glad that she seemed happy to sit down and have breakfast with him, and she was gratifyingly enthusiastic about his pancakes.

But, of course, she had to get to work.

The pang of regret as she left was tempered by the soft hug and kiss she left him with.

 

All day at work, he couldn’t concentrate. He was wondering just how soon he could see her again. He didn’t want to seem needy, but he really longed to see her again that night. 

The longing was an ache in the pit of his stomach that he’d never experienced before.

As soon as he got home from work, he really couldn’t concentrate on anything else but wanting her with him. He was sitting on the sofa, staring at his phone, wrestling with the decision of whether to call her or not, when it rang.

He was so surprised that he dropped it on the floor, and had to scramble to get it back.

“Hello,” he said, trying not to sound out of breath.

“Hey doc,” she said, her voice such a welcome sound, “Are you busy tonight?”

“No,” he replied, closing his eyes, breathing deeply, waiting for her next words.

“Would you like me to bring some food over?” she asked.

“That sounds great,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice from breaking.

 

She brought takeout food, and they ate in the kitchen, sitting close together at the counter, then they curled up on the sofa together and listened to music.

When he moved over to her side of the sofa, she took him in her arms so naturally that you’d think they’d been a couple for years.

Like the previous night, they got into bed together, and she snuggled up and put her arm around him, and her head on her shoulder.

He was very grateful to her, that she didn’t pressure him to do anything but lie in her arms. But he had told her so much that he wanted to tell her this, too.

“I… I’m afraid it might kill me,” he finally blurted out.

She leaned up to look into his eyes. “Your orgasm?” she asked.

He nodded, embarrassed, but relieved to have finally told her.

“Why would it kill you?” she asked gently.

“It might overtax my organs. Maybe they work OK for everyday, for walking slowly, but a sudden rush of blood might… *break* something,” he explained, unable to meet her eyes.

“Because they were damaged?” she asked.

He nodded.

She was silent for a long few moments before she spoke again.

“Would you be content to live the rest of your life without sex?” she asked gently.

He thought about that for the first time. She was right, he could not face the thought of celibacy for the rest of his days, without even masturbation to relieve his tension.

“No,” he replied.

“Maybe it would be best to just come. Just do it. Then you’ll prove it to yourself that you’re OK,” she suggested.

“I know you’re right,” he admitted, “But I’m just not sure I can.”

She slid her hand under his t-shirt and stroked his belly sensuously.

“Why not let me do it?” she said softly, “You could lie down, nice and relaxed, and I’ll give you a nice, slow, comfortable climax.”

That sounded wonderful. It had been so long. He felt his cock starting to stir.

“It sounds kind of selfish of me to let you do that,” he argued, a little half-heartedly.

“I did offer,” she smiled gently, “And if you’re the type who likes to keep score, you can do the same for me sometime.”

The mental picture that her words conjured up finished the job of getting him fully erect. He pictured her lying naked in his bed as he brought her to orgasm, and he was suddenly more aroused than he had been in a long, long time.

“Yes. Yes, please,” he whispered.

“Great,” she smiled softly. She leaned in and kissed him deeply and sensuously.

“Do you have any oil, or lotion, or anything?” she asked.

He shook his head, worried that it might not happen. He wanted it so badly now.

But to his relief, she smiled, “That’s OK, I can use my own.”

He expected her to go get her handbag, but instead she moved down the bed and carefully slid his shorts down over his erection.

“Just relax,” she said softly, then she leaned in and took him in her mouth, sliding very slowly and gently over him, making him groan deeply in pleasure.

He consciously relaxed, and breathed deeply as she gently caressed him with her mouth, bringing him exquisitely slowly to orgasm, until he came with a deep groan. It was the most incredibly pleasurable feeling he had ever experienced.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes. She was lying down close beside him. He rolled over and snuggled his head onto her shoulder.

She took him comfortingly in her arms. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Good. Really good,” he replied, “Thank you so much.”

She held him for a little while in silence, until he couldn’t help himself but say, “I’ve never… nobody ever…” but then he faltered. He didn’t want her to know how inexperienced he was, although he imagined she could probably tell.

“Your first time getting oral sex?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” he confirmed, then he added, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

She hugged him to her a little. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m glad I could be your first,” she laughed softly before adding, playfully, “You’ll never forget me now”.

“I could never forget you anyway,” he assured her, seriously, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey,” she replied.

There was a long pause, as he tried to swallow back tears of emotion. “Nobody ever said that to me before,” he whispered.

“That’s because you built such a wall around yourself,” she said gently, “You made it kind of hard to see the real you.”

“Thanks for making the effort,” he said quietly.

“It was well worth it,” she replied, hugging him to her.


	8. Chapter 8

She started to spend most of her nights with him.

He actually started leaving work at a reasonable time. Somehow staying at the hospital until ten p.m. didn’t seem so attractive when the alternative was a cosy evening curled up on the sofa with her.

And he had never had regular sex before. It was a revelation.

It still seemed unreal to have a beautiful woman in his bed each night, and that when he reached for her, she always seemed to want him.

Feeling loved and desired changed his whole outlook on life. He felt he had less to prove, and he felt much less insecure.

She was still doing most of the work in bed. She was always on top, but she never complained. She seemed quite happy and satisfied. He was very touched by the way she took care of him, indulging his irrational fears.

But he kept thinking back to that first climax she had given him. He owed her the same, and he really wanted to do it. He was just worried that he wouldn’t be able to.

With other women, he always felt like he had to keep up a façade of control and confidence. It could be exhausting.

With her, though, it was different. Maybe it was because they had got to know each other when he was in hospital, when his defences were down.

Whatever the case, he felt he could be totally honest with her.

One Saturday afternoon, they were sitting together reading the papers.

“Remember that first climax you gave me?” he suddenly asked.

“Sure,” she replied, and she smiled at him in a way that made his insides turn to liquid.

“I… I still owe you for that,” he said, “But the thing is… The thing is, I’ve never been very good at finding my way around a woman’s body,” he confessed, his heart in his mouth.

But to his immense relief, she just grinned. “That’s OK, I give guided tours,” she replied.

He was so relieved and grateful. She never made things awkward for him. With other women, he felt like everything was a test. A test that he usually failed.

But she just seemed to be genuinely fond of him. His company and conversation seemed to be enough for her. He didn’t feel like he had to keep passing tests to keep her.

He gathered her into his arms, and she hugged him back tightly. “I love you so much,” he whispered against her ear.

“I love you too,” she replied.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asked, wanting so much to give her pleasure, to show her just how much he loved her.

“Sure,” she replied, leaning back to smile into his eyes.

He grabbed her hand and hurried her to the bedroom.

“OK. Get your kit off, honey,” she grinned at him.

He grinned back at her, and they both quickly stripped naked, then climbed into bed together.

“How do you feel about being on top?" she asked gently, “Do you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” he replied, “But I want to give you pleasure, not take it for myself.”

She leaned in and kissed him very softly on the mouth. “Thank you, honey,” she smiled softly, “But I think it will really help me get there if I know you’re going to kind of *take me* afterwards.”

He felt his cock start to throb. He swallowed noisily, suddenly incredibly aroused to know that she really wanted him, that the thought of having him inside her would help her to come.

“I will,” he managed to whisper.

She kissed him again, then lay back on her back, offering her beautiful naked body to him to play with.

He propped himself up on his side and leaned over to kiss her. He kissed her deeply on the mouth, then ran his fingertips over her bare skin, over her belly, then her breasts, then back down to stroke her mound very softly.

He eventually pulled away from the kiss, and he was extremely gratified to see that she was already breathless and very obviously aroused.

“Wow,” she whispered, “I’m not sure you need any help from me.”

“I do,” he insisted. He was so grateful to her that she was willing to help him. Other women seemed to expect him to read their minds, and got angry and frustrated when he could not. “Could you show me where your clitoris is?”

“Sure,” she replied, much to his relief.

She took his hand in hers and slid it over her belly, and onto her mound. She pressed his middle finger very gently into her vulva, and he was thrilled to feel how wet and silky she already was.

She moved his finger down until he felt the beginning of the soft folds of her inner labia. He heard her take in a sharp gasp of breath. “Oh. Yes. Just there,” she whispered.

He felt her breathing become even more laboured as he stroked her clit feather softly.

But then she put her hand softly over his, stopping him from moving.

“That’s perfect,” she said, “But could you just tease me a little first? Maybe go back to what you were doing before for a little bit, before you give me my climax?”

He felt so aroused, but so tender towards her. It was so great that she felt comfortable enough with him to ask for what she wanted. And it was so flattering that she was asking him to go back to what he had been doing, that she had obviously enjoyed his technique even without any coaching from her.

He started to kiss her again, stroking and caressing her soft skin as she writhed in pleasure beneath his touch.

He took his time, enjoying exploring her beautiful body, and enjoying giving her pleasure.

When he very eventually moved his hand back between her thighs, he barely had to touch her clit before her back arched and she gasped sharply as she came.

She clung to him, and he held her tenderly. Gratifyingly, he could feel the aftershocks of her climax running through her body.

He was incredibly aroused by this time, and he longed to be inside her. But he so did not want to spoil the moment by focusing on his own pleasure. This had been for her, and he wanted it to stay that way.

But to his delight, once she had regained her senses somewhat, she whispered in his ear, “Come inside me, honey.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, despite his longing to just do as she asked.

“Please,” she whispered.

He climbed carefully on top of her, and entered her gratefully. She was so hot and silky inside. It felt incredible.

“Rest your weight on me a little,” she asked.

He did as she asked. He was moved that she remembered that this was the first time he had been on top since he had been hurt, and wanted to make it less of a strain on him.

Resting his weight on her made his movements smaller and more controlled, and delayed his climax. It felt so good to feel her soft flesh pressed against his as she gently held him.

When his climax did come, it was the most amazing thing he had ever felt. He actually screamed a little at the intensity of the feeling.


	9. Chapter 9

The next couple of months, he was happier than he had ever been.

They started to spend every evening together, and it was bliss for him. 

He had been alone for so long, that he would have expected to find it a little annoying to practically live with someone else. But in the event, he loved everything about it.

The best thing was having someone to talk to when he woke up in the night.

To his amazement, she never got irritated when he woke her, no matter what time it was. She was always ready to talk and to hold him.

It was so surprising, that he even asked her once, why she never got mad at being woken in the early hours.

She just hugged him and replied, “Why would I get mad? You only ever want a chat and a cuddle. It’s not like you’re asking me to dig a well or something.”

 

He even loved the annoying things about having someone around the house. He loved the fact that his stuff got moved to where he couldn’t find it.

After so long of having everything just where he left it, it gave him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach to have to ask her where the TV remote was, or whether she had used the last of the tea bags.

 

The only cloud on the horizon was her vacation.

She had a trip to Europe booked for the following month. She would be away for three weeks.

The thought of being without her for three weeks was quite horrific. He tried to put it out of his mind, but if he let himself think about it, it threw him into a panic. He had come to depend on her presence.

Even though he had lived alone for so many years, the thought of going back to it almost seemed unthinkable.

 

By the time she was setting off, he was struggling to hold back tears.

He knew he was ridiculous. He was a grown man. He could be alone for three weeks.

And she deserved her vacation. She had saved up her vacation days, and her money, and she had been planning it for a year. And she couldn’t let down the friends she was going with.

Still, it was very hard not to cry as she hugged and kissed him goodbye, with her cab waiting outside.

But he managed to keep a grip on himself until the cab was out of sight.

Only then did he close the front door, slide down to sit on the hard tile floor, and weep.

 

For the first few days, he was desolate.

The house seemed empty and cold and hostile again. Back to how it had been before he met her.

He stayed at work as late as he could, then drank a little too much whisky to get himself to sleep at nights.

The highlight of his day was when she called him each morning and each night. It was wonderful to hear her voice, and to hear her say she loved him. It was all that kept him going.

 

Even so, after she had been away for five days, he was finding it hard to bear. The next two weeks seemed to stretch away in front of him like an eternity.

He came home from work at ten p.m. and poured himself a drink, and waited for her to call.

Around eleven thirty, he heard a car on his driveway. Surprised, he went to look out the window.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was as though he was hallucinating the thing he wanted the most.

He quickly opened the door, and he found himself taking her by the arms and gently pulling her through the door. It was as though he wanted to touch her to make sure she was real.

He closed and locked the door, then he stepped in and slid his arms around her.

She held him tightly in return.

It felt so good to actually be holding her, when he had thought he would not see her for days.

They held each other for a long few minutes, without speaking.

Eventually, he found his voice. “Come to bed with me,” he whispered against her ear.

He let go of her, but took her hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. Wordlessly, they undressed and got into his bed together.

She lay on her back, and he lay on his side, his head snuggled against her shoulder. They held each other tightly for a long time.

She finally spoke. “You ruined my vacation,” she said, though her voice was soft and she continued to hold him against her.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, snuggling close against her, “I tried my best to sound upbeat on the phone.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him, “You did sound a little forlorn, but that wasn’t the problem. It was just too late for me to go on vacation without you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m too much in love with you,” she replied, matter-of-factly, “All I could think, when I was looking at all the things I'd wanted to see, was how I wished you were there to see them too.”

He tried to hold it back, but he couldn’t help himself but to dissolve into tears. He had just too much emotion to contain.

He was so happy that she had come back, and now to hear her say just how much she loved him was more than he could handle. Nobody had ever loved him like that. He had begun to believe that nobody ever would.

He turned his head so his face was buried in her hair, and sobbed quietly into her shoulder. She tightened her arms around him a little more and stroked the back of his hair softly.

When he finally managed to stop crying, she gently asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry,” he replied, “I’m just so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, honey,” she said softly.


	10. Chapter 10

He had never been asked to be anyone’s plus one before.

He was a little embarrassed to leave work early just to get ready, but he really wanted to look his best.

He’d been to all kinds of fancy dinners and drinks parties, of course. His position ensured that he was included in many guest lists, even if, deep down, he knew that his personality got him struck off a few.

But he had always gone alone in the past. Well, all except that one time. The time that still made him shudder to remember it, when he had invited a rather dense intern to accompany him, hoping that it would look like he had a date.

But no matter how he insisted that she call him Frederick, she kept forgetting, and calling him Doctor Chilton.

He still remembered the smirks that the other guests barely bothered to conceal, as it became apparent that he had basically hired a date for the night.

But this time he had a date. A real date. Someone he loved, and who loved him. It was the Christmas party for her work, and she had invited him as a matter of course. He was her partner, after all. 

It was a new experience, and he was excited.

He actually felt butterflies in his stomach as he picked out a suit, and fiddled and fussed with his hair, wanting to get it just perfect.

 

She arrived right on time to pick him up. She had insisted on driving, as she had no interest in alcohol, and he liked to enjoy a glass of wine or two.

He felt strangely a little nervous as he opened the door to her. Despite the fact that they had been together for months now, it still strangely felt like a first date. A first proper date, anyway.

She looked amazing. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her. She looked gorgeous, all ready for the party, and the way she smiled at him made his stomach flip over.

She stepped in and hugged him tightly, and he breathed in the subtle perfume she was wearing, revelling in the soft warmth of her body against his.

But then she took a step back and looked him over appraisingly. “You look so hot,” she grinned at him.

He actually felt himself blush in pleasure. He wouldn’t have admitted how long he had taken to get ready, but her words, and her smile, and the look in her eyes meant he couldn’t possibly regret a single minute.

She reached out a hand to touch his hair, but she stopped herself just short and stroked his cheek instead, sending a little thrill through him

“Your hair is so perfect,” she smiled, “I really want to mess it up, but I guess I’ll have to wait.”

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth, and the promise of the kiss almost made him wish she would just mess up his hair right now. But he wanted to go to the party. He wanted to walk in with her on his arm, and he relished the thought of waiting, anticipating the moment when they would return home and he would thoroughly enjoy having all his careful work ruined.

 

So only slightly regretfully, he got his jacket, and they set off to the party.

It wasn’t far, and soon she was parking on a sweeping driveway in front of a huge house. A mansion, really.

He rarely visited a house that was grander than his own, but he had to admit this was even more impressive.

He tried to put that out of his mind, and just concentrate on enjoying the party. He had money, and he had influence, and now he had a beautiful woman on his arm. He reminded himself that he had every reason to feel that he was just as good as any of the people here.

They were admitted by a uniformed waitress, who showed them to a large cloakroom. They took off their coats, and as they turned to go in to the main party, he caught sight of the two of them in a full-length mirror.

They were undeniably a very attractive couple. He turned and kissed her softly on the mouth, still almost a little surprised that she kissed him back willingly.

He slid his arm a little possessively around her waist, and they walked out of the cloakroom and into the party.

They found drinks and started to mingle. She introduced him to several of her friends and colleagues. He was gratified by how all of her friends greeted him enthusiastically. She had very obviously told them only positive things about him, which touched him deeply.

He was actually having a good time. Everyone seemed well disposed towards him, the wine was actually fairly good quality, and he was enjoying being a very visible half of a couple. He loved the way she stood close beside him, allowing him to lean very gently on her - even seeming to enjoy it.

She was careful to include him in conversation, not allowing her colleagues to get sidetracked into work subjects that would exclude him, and even subtly bringing the conversation around to subjects that she knew would interest him.

It was all going so well.

He was in conversation with one of her colleagues about the origins of psychoanalysis, when she excused herself to go to the bathroom. He was grateful that she had made sure he was not at a loose end before leaving him to fend for himself.

Another of her colleagues wandered over and introduced himself, butting rather rudely into the conversation.

Frederick turned slightly pointedly back to the man he had been conversing so pleasantly with, and prompted him to continue.

Before he could speak half a sentence, the newcomer interjected, “Psychoanalysis is just a pseudoscience, though. It doesn’t do to take it too seriously.”

By a tremendous effort of will, Frederick managed to bite his tongue. These were her work colleagues, and he knew he mustn’t get into any kind of argument with any of them, even the obnoxious idiots.

Unfortunately, the guy had no such qualms. He wouldn’t let the subject go. He kept ridiculing the whole concept of the field that Frederick had made his life’s work.

The guy was being such a jerk. Frederick bit back several retorts, but eventually his barbs were just more than he could take without retaliation.

Using all his powers of sarcasm and cutting wit, he told the guy in no uncertain terms what a total moron he was.

The guy eventually stalked away, and he sipped his drink, coming down from the adrenalin rush of the verbal sparring.

After a few minutes, she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and was amazed to see she was wearing her coat and carrying his jacket.

Her voice cold as ice, she said, “We’ve been asked to leave.”

He gaped at her. “Because of what I said to that imbecile?”

“Because of what you said to *the host*, yes,” she confirmed, her voice still icy, thrusting his jacket ungently into his hands.

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, and out of the house, with him hurrying along behind her.

When he reached the car, she was in the driver’s seat, the engine running. When he tried the passenger door, it opened. He got in gratefully, glad at least that she hadn’t abandoned him to make his own way home.

She drove them back to his place and pulled up outside. “Please don’t leave,” he said, the first words spoken since they left the party.

She stared through the windscreen, the engine still running, for a long few moments.

Eventually, she turned off the engine and he let out a sigh of relief.

They walked up to his house together. She got ready for bed in silence as he trailed around after her, trying not to annoy her.

They got into bed, and she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she said, and turned away from him to settle down for sleep.

He snuggled down beside her and closed his eyes. But he could not sleep. He couldn’t believe he had screwed up so spectacularly.

This was the only real relationship he had had in his life. He had been happier these last months than he had ever been.

And now he had ruined it. He had probably jeopardised her career. Just because he couldn’t suppress his sarcasm. She had precious little reason to stay with him as it was, and now she was sure to leave him, sure to swap him for someone taller, more handsome, someone who wasn’t a snarky idiot.

He lay torturing himself with his thoughts for more than an hour. Eventually he couldn’t lie down any more. The adrenaline provided by his dark imaginings forced him to sit up.

He sat very gently up, trying his hardest not to disturb her. He hugged his knees to his chest and looked down at her sleeping beside him.

He could see the beautiful curve of her waist and the bit of moonlight that crept into the room around the curtains accentuated the sheen of her hair as she lay with her back to him.

The thought of going back to sleeping alone made him want to cry. He loved sleeping with her so much. It was still amazing to him to wake up with someone, not to wake up to cold silence as he had for so many years before he had met her. He often woke up during the night, and he found it immensely comforting to feel her warmth alongside him.

Very eventually, she stirred. He held his breath as she turned over in her sleep, and his heart flipped over as she snuggled back into the duvet and pillows, now facing him. She was so dear to him. He loved her so much. How could he go back to living without her?

Suddenly, her voice made him jump. “Are you alright?” she asked sleepily.

He couldn’t answer her. All he could make into words was what he had been thinking for this last two sleepless hours. “Please don’t leave me,” he said.

She rolled onto her back and put her arm out along the base of the pillows, and patted her shoulder with her other hand. “Come here,” she said.

He hurried to comply. Gratefully, he snuggled against her, his head nestled on her shoulder, and to his relief and intense pleasure, she hugged him tightly against her.

“I’m not going to leave, you, honey,” she said gently.

“Even though…?” he faltered and fell silent.

“Even though,” she confirmed.

It seemed too good to be true. “But… I…” he started to argue.

“You’ve got a quick mind, and a mean streak, and that’s all part of what I love about you,” she explained, stroking his hair softly, “I’m not saying I’m thrilled with how the evening went, but I’m not going to leave you for being the snarky smartarse that I fell in love with.”

“Can you really forgive me - just like that?” he asked, a little scared of the answer.

She was silent for a few moments, considering. “Well, maybe not just like that,” she replied, “I’ll have to have my revenge.”

“Revenge?” he asked, aghast.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “I’m really going to mess up that perfect hair of yours.”

To his amazement and relief, she gently rolled him onto his back and herself on top of him. She leaned her head down and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

By the time he finally got to sleep, he felt happy and satisfied and loved.

And his hair looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.


End file.
